Firefly
by The Brat Prince
Summary: Yamasuke. Taito. Kinda. TK on drugs. Meeeean Sora. Matt's a bit depressed, Daisuke's a little sparkly. Angst I guess.
1. Look

Firefly  
  
By: The Brat Prince  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon. Hell, I don't even own my own inner voice, ^-^. Frederick: That's right, I've been copyrighted. The Brat Prince: Sugar, stop rubbing it in. Anyways, don't sue. I'm broke. But feel free to donate money. (A girl can hope, right?)  
  
He watched the firefly dance in and out of the shadows, weaving a web reminiscent of a spider's, only it was a web intangible to the senses, glimpses of light that vanished when examined closely.  
  
It was interesting of course, the way the little bug was able to just fly around, carefree. Nothing in the world could stop it's beautiful flight, nothing except a little child with a tiny glass jar clutched in it's grubby fingers, laughing loudly as it chased the creature, trying to grasp it's magic. He had done that with Takeru when he was young, still thinking the world had so much in store for him, so many adventures to be had. So many unexplained things, things science and school would teach him eventually. Things that would eventually lose their luster, their charm.  
  
Only in high school, and a true cynacist. He wished he could go back to the time before the Digiworld had dropped the burden of responsibility in his 11 year old lap and catch fireflies with Takeru again.  
  
At 17, Yamato Ishida was every girl's dream date, every guys idol. He had anything and everything he could ever want on the outside. The perfect family once again, the perfect, equally idolized little brother and successful journalist parents; never mind one worked for a TV station and one for a magazine, they were both 'journalists'. The perfect girlfriend, up and coming tennis player and ambitious fashion designer Sora Takenouchi. And the perfect best friend, junior soccer team national champion, Taichi Yagami. Of course Yamato himself had his own perfectly laid out career as a rock musician.  
  
It was all shit. Sure, Yamato's parents had gotten back together, but not for real. They did love each other, they really did. It would just never work out, they were too different. They had only gotten back together for Yamato's career, to make him look better. It had only made things worse though. His dad drank more than ever, came home smelling like sex and cheap perfume every night. His mom had taken up smoking, and couldn't stand being in the house. She'd leave for weeks, leaving Yamato to take care of everything. Otherwise the laundry would never get done, and TK and his dad would never be fed.  
  
Takeru himself was going through some hard times. He was the star basketball player, but he wasn't invincible. His parents had driven him to hang out with a bad crowd, and he had gotten involved with some pretty heavy drugs. Just recently had Yamato found out, enrolling him in special courses to handle the problem rather than send him away for rehabilitation. They didn't have the money anyways, their dad had spent it all. In fact, Yamato wasn't even sure Mr. Ishida knew about TK's problem.  
  
As for Sora, she was the wicked bitch of the far east. Stupid witch had blackmailed him into dating her when she had found out a little too much about his personal life. Then, what with his family, and TK she just had more and more on him. He hated her. At any rate, she had originally done it on some sick grounds of love, more like obsession, and then the obsession became need. She was quickly losing popularity on the tennis courts, too aggressive and oft times cruel. Her fashion designs, although appreciated by their strange, whimsical art teacher, were too ugly to be accepted in normal society. So she hung on the outskirts of Matt's inner circle until she was able to trick him into needing her too, or at least needing her silence.  
  
Sometimes Yamato wished they had never left the digiworld, where Takeru had still been his sweet, innocent little brother and Sora had been her kind, caring self. Where his feelings for Taichi had not been so strong, and so strongly returned.  
  
That's right. He, Yamato Ishida, and his best friend, Taichi Yagami, were not just friends. They were lovers. As in they were in love.  
  
Sora would have had a fit had she known. But that wasn't the whole story. The guys who had gotten TK into drugs...they were on Tai's soccer team. They were Taichi's friends. One of them was Taichi. It killed him every time he thought about it. Tai insisted he was getting help. Constantly. And one look into his soft, doe-like eyes made Yamato melt, like the melted chocolate color he saw reflected there. No matter what, Yamato couldn't not believe his love. Even when he saw him in the halls, laughing with his friends, beautiful orbs so obviously vacant, soul soaring to heights he couldn't see from induced illusions. Music was Yamato's only salvation from the hell he knew.  
  
What had driven him to it, he would never know. In a way, Taichi, Sora and all of Yamato's family were like fireflies, once so carefree, but now caught in a little glass cage, and with time, the few air holes they had wouldn't be sufficient. They'd just...die.  
  
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"Yamato! Where are you?" Sora's shrill voice demanded loudly over the answering machine. Yamato sighed, vaguely recalling a dream he had about fireflies and Gabumon, his dear friend Gabumon whom he missed so very much. He picked up the phone, immediately knowing he was going to regret it.  
  
"Sora," He said slowly, "It's nice to talk to you too," He grimaced, knowing exactly how much she would bitch over that statement. She did, quite loudly.  
  
"Where the hell are you Yamato Ishida? You were supposed to pick me up over an hour ago! Do you know we have a totally important appearance at the Takaguchi party to make? What were you thinking?" She yelled, "That whore Mimi will get all the attention now!"  
  
Mimi had moved back to Japan in their senior year. She had tried to make friends with Sora again, but the redhead had been too far gone into her own selfishness. Mimi was definitely not a whore or a slut or any of the other mean names Sora called her- she at least had still kept to her old, sweet, innocent personality. Everyone at school worshipped her charm, which matched only Hikari Yagami's in the grammar school. And even she was starting to turn to Sora's ways- setting Takeru and Daisuke up against each other- she was one of the things that had driven TK to what he did. Only she didn't know it, and unlike Sora would probably feel terrible if she did.  
  
"Uh...Sorry?" Matt asked weakly. He wasn't up to dealing with Sora right now. What he really wanted was to go back to sleep, to dream about fireflies and Taichi and Takeru and the Digiworld. He wanted reality to leave him alone.  
  
Reality wasn't very acquiescent. Sigh. Neither was Sora's shrill voice. "Sora, babe. I'll be there soon. Let me get dressed. Band practice was harsh-" The sound of a dial tone met his ears. Sora had hung up. She never wanted to hear about Yamato's life. After all, he was just eye candy.  
  
Languidly, Yamato got up, smoothing out his silky black satin sheets. He threw on a pair of silky boxers, a matching silky black shirt, and his usual tight black jeans. Originally, the damned jeans had been uncomfortable, but his manager had told him he looked sexy in them, that it was good for promotional purposes. He hadn't known whether to agree or run away.  
  
Taking a glance in the mirror, Matt realized he didn't really care much what he looked like any more. The bags beneath his eyes could be hidden by makeup, the loose silk covered his exposed ribs. His hair was the only thing he had to maintain, keeping it glossy with lots of washing. He didn't feel like gelling it into perfect spikes, and it was only Sora and the rest of the school after all. Not Taichi. He was away at rehab. His Taichi.  
  
He grabbed a leather coat and stepped into the cool night air, absently fingering his small silver earring. It bothered him sometimes that he'd gotten it for promotional stuff, but Tai had told him he looked cuter with it, and that was all that mattered. Not what fans thought. Fans only brought him money, not love. Love was what Tai had put into the necklace Yamato wore on a small silver chain around his neck- a little silver pendant, a small silver wolf head.  
  
Walking to Sora's house was easier than driving- she only lived a few blocks down. But she'd be pissed if he didn't drive his ice blue Mercedes convertible over there. Had to show up in style, right?  
  
She walked out like the queen of all things damned, head high, proud, evil glinting in her beady red eyes. Her red hair was longer now, down to her shoulders. She wore it loose, in diamond barrettes. More like rhinestones, but who cared? They were in high school after all. Her dress was low cut, slinky, and red. Always red, like blood. Yamato figured if she had been bored a Digimon, she'd have been a vampire. Like Myotismon. Red fit her well.  
  
"M'lady," He said dryly, holding the door open. She shot him a glare. They drove in silence, neither really feeling like conversing. It was mutually beneficial to their lives if they kept quiet.  
  
They reached the party, in a small apartment in Narita that held too many people for it's own good. Music was throbbing from every crevice, every doorframe. Beautiful, glorious, pulsing music. The music that had saved Matt from suicide thousands of thousands of times. He had never seriously considered it, because when he started too, he thought of his music.  
  
Laughing, genuinely, Matt dragged Sora onto the dance floor of wiggling, writhing, sweaty bodies. Dancing was the only thing they had in common- they both kicked ass at it. She was surprised, but she instantly covered it, pressing her body close to his, sultrily pursing her lips and shaking her hips. Her sinuous curves attracted the eyes of all the guys in the room, and that was the way she liked it.  
  
Matt caught glimpse of Mimi in the midst of his euphoria, standing by the mini bar with two familiar looking young men. She looked gorgeous, as always, yet very very alone with all the guys drooling over her ex-best friend. Her white lace, off the shoulder dress set off her tanned skin, and pooled around her thighs like clouds. She grinned and waves, as did the two handsome young men, both dressed very snazzy. One, tall, with short purple hair was dressed in a starched white shirt and black pants that made him look...mysterious? And the other, decked out in khakis and an orange silk shirt that offset his spiky auburn hair looked almost adorable. Magickal. Like a firefly.  
  
Sora had caught sight of Mimi too, even with the throbbing strobe lights and mass of bodies blocking her view. Her dancing started getting even more risqué, more like a girl trying to make another girl jealous. Yamato didn't like it.  
  
He tried to break free, but found it difficult. Eventually he succeeded, leaving Sora in the hands- literally, of their oh-so-gracious guest Kiani Takaguchi. He walked over to Mimi, who curtsied, giggling. She gave him a sympathetic look when he glanced back at Sora, who was glaring again. She never stopped.  
  
"So, Meems, who're your friends?" Yamato asked, nodding politely to them, although he had a feeling he knew them. So familiar. The one in orange looked so much like a firefly under the strange lighting.  
  
"Yama-chan? Have you forgotten? Our dear Daisuke and Ken?" Yamato could have slapped himself. Of course. He had known that. Why hadn't he remembered? Even if he hadn't seen any of them since he had first started dating Tai.  
  
"Yamato-san," Ken bowed respectfully, "Hey Ken. Like the new do," Matt replied, gesturing to his short hair.  
  
"It ain't that new," Daisuke said gruffly, "But you would know that if you kept in touch, wouldn't you?" He asked meanly.  
  
Fireflies would never be so cruel, "Dai-chan! Yama-chan's had things on his mind." Mimi exclaimed, always the peacemaker.  
  
"Yeah, like TS's fast recovery?" Daisuke growled, shocking Yamato, "How did you know?" He whispered, pale.  
  
"Yamato, everyone knows. You didn't think it was a secret did you? He's been out of school for weeks. Last we saw him he was with Taichi. Didn't you know?" Ken asked softly, uncertainly.  
  
"No. Tai's in rehab. You're lying!" Yamato felt his heart breaking for the upteenth time. Ken wasn't lying of course. Ken never lied. And of course Yamato knew. He had disillusioned himself so much, but he saw when his brother came home late from his addict's meetings, smelling like his own father when he came back from the bars. Drugs, sex, alcohol. But Matt didn't want to deal with it. The fact that Takeru would lie to him.  
  
"No." Daisuke glared at him, a fiery, pure, innocent glare. Like a firefly.  
  
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(Ah. Sorry. I'm lazy. I cut it here. I could have made it a cliffhanger. But I didn't. Again. Sorry. It's late.  
  
Chibi-Lestat: Duh.  
  
Chibi-Armand: Chibi-Armand sleepy now.  
  
The Brat Prince: I know, I know. ^-^ Sorry.  
  
Chibi-Lestat: Stop apologizing.  
  
Chibi-Yamato: *grumble* stop making Yamasuke fics. And Taito fics. And fics in general.  
  
The Brat Prince: :P No. Bye! R+R pllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeaasssssssssssssse???!! Be nice!) 


	2. Listen

Firefly  
  
Chapter 2: Listen  
  
By: The Brat Prince  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own Digimon. Duh.  
  
A/N: Oooh...Thanks for the wonderful reviews! Heehee ^-^ However, truth is, I'm not sure whether this will turn out to be a taito or a yamasuke. I LOVE taito. But I wanted to do something new. Hmmmmmm…..guess we'll have to wait and see, ne? And, uh just saw Resident Evil- most pointless movie ever, but I loved it ^-^ I don't know why, amused me. Maybe it was the skittles. Which means it's midnight and I'm hyped up on sugar and caffeine. *laughs* R+R please!  
  
  
  
The music pulsed, raced. Strobe lights flashed like lightning, freeze- framing the movement of the bodies around him, the solemn faces of Ken and Daisuke. Little Ken and Daisuke, all grown up now, or at least around 15 now. Grown up compared to the innocent children they had been in the digital world. Even Ken, who had been the supreme evil plague of their lives had held an undeniable spark of innocence, vulnerability back then. They had lost something in the past three years, something that had made them eligible for the adventures they had had.  
  
Even with that loss, Daisuke still seemed to hold that fire in his eyes, so like Taichi, yet so different. His Taichi had lost something worse than innocence, than childhood dreams. He had lost his way. And lead his brother to the same path. But Yamato couldn't believe that. If he believed that, then he too had lost everything. Everyone he love, everything he admired was gone, caught in some glass jar with a tacky lid and no air holes, the glow, the vibrancy of life fading off as they slowly died, unable to cope with their roles in society. Unable to conform or adapt or even rebel.  
  
"I'm sorry Yamato-san," Ken lowered his eyes to the glass tiled ground, "We thought you knew about Taichi-san and Take-chan."  
  
"Bullshit, he knew," Daisuke muttered, something in his chocolate eyes sparking like an ember that refused to die. Hopefully he would never lose that spark, that vitality. As children grew up it often faded. Even the digidestined were no exception.  
  
"Daisuke!" Mimi exclaimed, loathing the crude language, "Don't talk like that! Yamato-chan didn't know. He couldn't have," She bit her lip, wondering if her words were true.  
  
Yamato brushed a strand of glossy brown away from her face, giving her a sincere smile, "Relax Meems, I think, maybe, I did know," His eyes were narrowed to slit, his face anguished.  
  
"So? What are you going to do about it?" Daisuke demanded loudly, never one to be tactful.  
  
"I'm going to talk to Taichi. And Takeru," Turning a bit, Yamato didn't even bother to go find Sora. Little bitch could find a ride home herself. If fortune smiled on him today there was a chance there was a psycho on the loose who might hack her into little pieces on the side of the road. Maybe that was a bit cruel, "Meems, can you keep an eye on Sora? Don't let her leave with any creeps, okay?" Mimi nodded, happy to help, even if it was doubtful her ex-best friend would listen to her.  
  
"I'm going with you," Daisuke stated simply, "I want TS to get it through his head that drugs are bad shit. He shouldn't be dealing with that crap. Neither should Tai," The last sentence was like an afterthought. Yamato acquiesced, allowing Daisuke to slide into the passenger seat of his convertible.  
  
"Nice wheels," Dai whistled, touching the white leather seats with awe. He couldn't afford a car like this if he saved for five years straight. Even with his future dream of owning a ramen noodle cart.  
  
Nodding absently, Yamato warned Dai to get his seatbelt on, admiring the soft curl of the other boy's auburn hair. He looked more like an adult, less like the happy-go-lucky kid of the past. Dressed in blazing orange and yellow, against the blanket of the cool summer night, "Hey, Matt look! Fireflies!" Dai exclaimed, momentarily forgetting the mission at hand.  
  
The little bugs surrounded the car, leaving trails of light in the air. They sparkled. Then they were gone. Matt revved the engine then ripped down the drive, cutting corners and red lights through the fastest short cut he knew. Daisuke was pressed against the seat with a horrified look on his face, "Do you always drive like this you idiot?!"  
  
"Yes. Gotta problem 'Suke?" Yamato grinned, veering around a curve at 80 miles per hour, laughing like a mad man. Daisuke imagined he could hear the sirens behind him, "N-no, course not," he stammered, clutching on for dear life, "But where are we going?"  
  
"The only place I can think of. The park in Odaiba. Remember, where we met for that picnic back when we were the digidestined? I don't know where else they would go. After 10 Tokyo isn't exactly a theme park, y'know?" Slender fingers reached for the radio, turning it on to loud pulsing dance music, then changing to heart wrenching American blues, then to soft J-pop, and finally resting on a loud, angst filled rock song.  
  
They sped the rest of the way in silence, taillights illuminated like flames, like fireflies dancing through the darkness.  
  
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Walking through Odaiba park was like walking through a memory. It was the same as Yamato remembered from all those years ago, when he caught fireflies with Takeru in the park, when he and the original digidestined met to find the eighth child, when they met for that picnic with Dai and the others. Where he and Taichi had first kissed, where they had their first fight and broke up the first time. He hadn't been back since, but he knew Tai's favorite spot, their special spot that had been taken over by potheads and crack shacks, the spot parents warned their children never to go to now. Right by the waterfall. Two years ago it had been heaven. It looked like hell to Yamato when he and Daisuke reached it.  
  
A bonfire was lit near a cardboard box-house. On a small wooden picnic table two girls danced, one topless. Several leery-eyed guys watched with a strange, dangerous gleam in their eyes, while glassy-eyed boys and girls bathed in the cold of the river, others dancing skyclad in the grass, and some fully clothed, just staring at the stars. Some were having sex in the midst, and as they watched in horror, one of the dancing girls fell limp and an obviously drunk observer limped over, lifting her body from the table so the other girl could dance more freely. He tossed the unconscious girl in the river, another boy immediately picking her up and dancing with her limp form, kissing her with zest.  
  
They couldn't spot Tai or Takeru in the dirty fray, but glanced a few loners on the outskirts, probably seeking more privacy. They searched the limits, but found nothing. A bug buzzed around Yamato's ear, making it hard for him to concentrate. He waved a hand at it, urging it away, but to no avail. It finally flew in little circles, weaving a web like pixy dust then away, and hovered over the forms of two sweaty bodies involved in the heat of passion. Matt breathed in, recognizing the silhouette of bushy brown hair, the strong muscles, the defined tattoo representing courage on the right shoulder. His Taichi. And screaming in pleasure beneath him, a blonde angel with blue eyes like the sky, glazed over, seeing some nirvana that neither Daisuke or Yamato could see.  
  
A pained look graced Daisuke's face, "No," he whispered softly, "TK." He finally got his name right. No emotion showed on Yamato's face. He didn't look angry or sad or hurt. Just stoic acceptance. Without a word, he turned, blonde tresses softly waving in the breeze, and stalked away to the car, cerulean eyes hard. He would never return to the park. Daisuke didn't follow immediately, couldn't. He heard the soft whisper of Taichi's voice before he fell, "Yamato," Then watched him collapse on top of Takeru's body. Both were ecstasy-eyed, brains fried. He watched until he couldn't watch anymore, then ran to the icy blue car, ran to Yamato. With a screech of tires and burning rubber they left Odaiba Park, left the hell hole that had once been a haven for childhood dreams.  
  
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(Okay, wanted to stop there. Heh, that didn't turn out like I expected. Didn't realize I was gonna make an orgy in the park. Eek, sorry if anyone found it offensive, I didn't mean it that way. It was the skittles I tell you, the skittles!!!!!!!! Next chapter should be uh, yamasukeyish, then taitoey-goodness, and then the finale...and then who knows! Either or I suppose.) 


	3. Learn

Firefly

**Chapter 3**

By: The Brat Prince 

A/N- Brat: Oh yeah. Chapter 3. I'm so happy. ::rolls eyes::

Inspiration: Mmm hmm. You're just jealous cuz I came up with an idea and you didn't.

Brat: You call this an idea? BS-ing is something I could have thought up on my own, thanks.

Inspiration: Right.

Chibi-Shido: She's right you know.

Brat: You just shut up.

Inspiration: Is that any way to talk to your muse? I might just leave you.

Brat: Hah! Then I'd be able to hear myself think!

Chibi-Shido: Uh, *ducks* I think you just pissed her off.

Brat: Oh, like make-believe girl could do anything to me?

Chibi-Shido: I'd run. Fast

Inspiration: *whips out the evil writing utensil of death* Mwahahahahaha!

Brat: Now that's just pathetic. *Runs*

_************************************************************************_

            They drove in silence. It was like a blanket that wrapped each of them in their individual thoughts. Neither noticed the other's presence. Neither cared to notice. The loud music screamed as rain buffeted the leather interior of the car. 

            The seats would be ruined. Neither cared. All they could think about was the park, so distant, like a dream. Like the dream reflected in Taichi and Takeru's glazed eyes. A dream of a better place, where the reality of the situation was far, far away. 

            Finally, Daisuke couldn't take it any longer. The pain in lead singer's voice was nothing compared to his pain. He was overpaid and oversexed. What would he know about pain? With a quick flick of his wrist he changed the radio station, the godforsaken agony in the singing man's voice gone. Now there was only the soft notes of one of Mozart's symphonies, drowned out by the pounding rain. 

            Yamato looked at Daisuke with only the slightest tinge of anger. He said nothing, just nodded curtly and turned his eyes back to the slick road. It was too much. The silence and the rain, intermingled in a dance of high and low notes that sounded remarkable like a symphony Mozart himself would have longed to create, mixed in with his immortal creation. Daisuke couldn't take it. It was a dream, he need reality. Reality was cold, and harsh, and undeniably cruel, but it was the only way he would be able to deal.

            "Yamato…" He felt his voice catch. What do you say to a man who has just lost all his dreams? "It feels like drowning…"

            "Put the hood up," A cold voice returned, not ready to speak. Yamato's soul was visiting the darkness of his mind, and he felt no desire to speak to this boy who knew nothing of his pain. Although Daisuke looked crushed as well. Too damn bad. Yamato did not want to deal with someone else's problems. Because that's all his life had been lately- someone else's fucked up problems. His parents' divorce, his brother's and his boyfriend's addictions, his girlfriend's jealousy.  Never his own problems, his own pain.

            "T-that's not what I mean," Daisuke whispered, so softly that Yamato barely caught it, "You know that's not what I mean," More clearly now, not as uncertain.

            Sighing, Yamato pulled off the road. If Daisuke wanted an introspective to the blonde's life, he sure as hell didn't want to be driving at the same time he was telling. He might just decide everything was too screwed up and they'd just have to catapult the convertible right off a cliff. Actually, that kind of sounded like fun.

            "What are you doing Yamato?" Daisuke asked, sounding slightly worried as they swerved to avoid a tree that just happened to be in the spot Yamato decided to park.

            "I've come to the decision that it's time to pull the chainsaw out of the trunk and pretend we're in Texas. What the hell do you think I'm doing?" Yamato replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. He pulled the keys out of the ignition, still not bothering to put the hood up. The interior was already ruined.

            Daisuke stayed quiet. 

            "Well?" Yamato demanded, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. But delicacy never was his strong suit.

            "Well what?" His voice was innocent. Resigned. Sad. But not angry. For some reason, he wasn't angry. If only Yamato could be that forgiving. Maybe it would save his soul. Maybe it would just make him feel better. But beating the shit out of a tree would too.

            "Well what do you want to talk about?" He lowered his voice, trying to stay in control. He was Yamato Ishida. He was the coolest, calmest guy in Tokyo. If only he could stay that way until he was alone.

            "I don't want to talk about anything. I was just saying it kind of feels like drowning, y'know?" Dai shrugged his shoulders, shrinking a bit into the seat. The cold rain was finally sinking into his skin.

            "Then maybe you should let yourself drown," Yamato replied seriously, looking him straight in the eye.

            "Or maybe you should start treading water and swim back to shore," Daisuke answered softly, not wanting to invoke his anger, "If you drown, the sharks might get you. Or your family," It wasn't subtle. But Matt got the message. If he didn't recover before he got home, his mom and his dad and TK would be in trouble. Matt was all they had to take care of them now. It wouldn't do if he fell apart.

            Yamato didn't like Daisuke dissecting him. He had every right to be mad. In fact, so did Daisuke, "Why aren't you angry?" He asked. 

            "Who says I'm not?" For the first time, Yamato noticed salty tears mixed in with the rain streaming down Daisuke's face. And he was shivering, "Look, I love Takeru. At least, I think I do. At any rate, I care for him. More than I thought was possible. And I would give him anything I could to see him happy. But I won't let him destroy my life. Because my life, my pride…that's all I've ever had to support me. I'm not you Yamato. I don't have great friends like Koushirou or Jyou or Mimi to confide in. I have Ken, but it's not the same. Ken wants something from me I can never give him. He wants me to be some little firefly he can catch in a jar and show to his friends. But I'll die that way. Although, now that I think on it, I suppose that's what I wanted to do to Takeru too. Maybe my priorities are mixed up. At any rate, I know what I'm feeling can't be shit compared to what you're feeling. So why don't you tell me what's bothering you instead of trying to figure me out." There it was. Daisuke had laid his cards out. Suprisingly, Yamato had expected something different.

            "You realized you didn't answer my question?" He asked, looking up into the clouds for some kind of heavenly sign. Maybe lightening would strike him. In the head. That would be nice. Daisuke stayed silent. 

            "My friends aren't really that great you know. I don't talk to Jyou or Koushiro. Sure, I have Mimi, but pink clashes with my hair," He grimaced, "Sometimes I wish I was colorblind. If everything was in black and white it'd be so much easier."

            "Au contraire. I think it wouldn't be as easy as you say. You'd never see a flower's beauty. Or be able to tell whether it was sunny or rainy except for this," he cupped his hands, catching some clear, jewel like droplets that dripped from his face. Whether they were tears or rain, Yamato couldn't tell.

            "Color doesn't mean that much," He caught his own raindrops, but they trickled down his hand. He brought it in front of his face and licked it off, "It's not food, or water. It's just color." Daisuke looked at him with pity.

            "The color in a person's eyes is what tells you about them. I had a girlfriend once, believe it or not, and the only way I could tell what mood she was in was to watch her eyes change color. They were light green when she was upset and crying, dark green when she was angry, brown when she was just depressed, hazel when she was happy, olive colored when she was excited. It was amazing. Her facial expressions never changed, just her eyes."

            "Like a mood ring," Matt mused.

            "More or less," Daisuke turned his gaze into the night. All he saw was black, dark black. Except…except for a single firefly, hovering under a tree, like it was caught and it had nowhere to go. 

            The wind picked up and blew the branches that were it's sanctuary away. The deluge of rain weighted the creature down, and it fell into a murky puddle. It's bright light was extinguished, it's life gone. 

            The tears came more quickly. 

            "Daisuke? Don't cry, okay?"

            "It's okay to cry. You should try it."

            "It's not okay. If I start crying, I'll never stop."

            "Fine. I won't cry." But even through the veil of rain that hung between them in the small car, Yamato could tell, he could see in Dai's fiery cinnamon colored eyes, that he was lying.

************************************************************************

            "Yamato, would you care to tell us what it is you're reading?" The professor demanded. Matt looked up. He hadn't even realized he had been called at first.

            "Not really," He replied nonchalantly. He didn't regret it either. High School just wasn't the life for him, no matter what his teachers said. He didn't plan on going to college, ever. 

            "Well, tell us a line, and I'll guess," The professor demanded. 

            "I'm working on a song," Matt drawled, not really wanting to argue. All he could see was Tai. In his mind, his eyes glazed, his body covered in sweat. His mouth forming the syllables of his name. 'Yamato…I love you'. 

            And then the image of his love was replaced with Daisuke, watching that poor firefly die, fear and forgiveness intermingled in his eyes.

            "Do share," The professor looked him in the eye, with that 'if-you-don't-you'll-be-visiting-the-principal-for-the-third-time-this-week' look. 

            "Would you like me to read it or sing it?" Yamato shot back, but started reading before the professor could reply, "The other side of heaven is found in your eyes, tears that sparkle like fireflies, little orbs of light. I can see the world as you might, full of better things, rainbows and light." He paused thoughtfully, "Hey, that kind of has a rhythm. Almost like a poem," He laughed. 

            The professor looked at him, "Right. You can sit back down now Mr. Ishida."

            He complied, begrudgingly. And it occurred to him that he had never really seen Taichi cry about some stupid bug. But that was exactly what he had been thinking about when he wrote the pathetic little rhyme. Taichi and fireflies. Light and rainbows. Things he could never have. 

            After class, he found himself in front of the highschool, searching the crowd for a certain freshman.

************************************************************************

_Brat: See, I told you it was bad. I think I'm sick._

_Inspiration: Sap, ma'am. That is my mission. Just the sap._

_Chibi-Shido: …_

_Brat: No, I really think I'm sick._

_Inspiration: That's not good._

_Chibi-Shido: Don't throw up on the carpet._

_Brat: *looks at Chibi-Shido menacingly*_

_Chibi-Shido: On second thought, do._

_Inspiration: Buh-bye! Do come again!_


End file.
